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Alicia squeezed his arm. “At least Gordon’s garden is almost finished,” she said quietly as they walked to the end of the terrace to look down at the little patch of soil to the right of the house.

It was the same spot where Alicia had planted her first flowers alongside Seth all those months ago.

They had both agreed, after the exposure of Michael’s betrayal, that they should not remain angry at his misdeeds, but celebrate the life he had stolen from the world.

The little bed had been planted over several months with different types of flowers and a large white rose bush in the center that would bloom later in the year.

Seth and Langham had worked together to create the shape of it, and it was becoming truly beautiful. Alicia liked the way Seth’s whole countenance softened whenever he looked at it.

“I think he would have liked it here,” he whispered. “I only wish he could have met you.”

“I wish that, too. But I believe he is all around us, even now.”

Seth smiled. “Perhaps you are right. If this menace were a boy, I would think Fernside had come back as her spirit to torment me.”

He held Dove up in front of his face and glared at her as she gave a pitiful mew.

“Mm, exactly,” he said, as if agreeing with her.

At the sound of the butler’s footsteps, they both turned to greet their guests.

Seth would never grow tired of watching his wife. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and each day that went by, he became twice amazed that she wished to spend the rest of her life with him.

“You are mooning, Radcliffe,” Lucas remarked, sidling up to him with a cup of tea in hand.

“I am allowed to,” Seth protested. “She is my wife, after all.”

“Very true, of course, but it is rather sickening all the same.”

Seth snorted, taking a large bite from the scotch egg in his hand and smiling fondly as Alicia held up the kitten to her sister.

Jane was holding her daughter, Constance, in her arms, and the little girl giggled madly every time the cat came into view.

“What is the matter with Stone?” Lucas asked.

Seth glanced at their friend, who stood at the window, staring out at the gardens. He had been there for some time.

Frowning, Seth placed his plate behind him, glancing at Lucas in confusion. “He has always been a melancholy soul.”

“True,” Lucas said. “But lately he has seemed more so. I would have thought he would be happy, now that Grant is where he belongs.”

“Perhaps it is memories of the war. He has never spoken of it.”

“Nor will he, I’d wager,” Lucas muttered, his face serious as his eyes fell on Isaac’s frame. “I may take a slice of cake to him to cheer him up.”

“I am sure he would enjoy that, considering he hates sweet things,” Seth replied sardonically, but Lucas did not hear him.

Moments later, he was heading toward Isaac with a croissant and a scone on a plate. Seth turned away so that he would not have to endure the inevitable outburst.

His eyes darted around the company, and he could not help but smile at the strange picture they painted.

He had organized the breakfast to celebrate Alicia’s pregnancy, but he also had a mischievous reason he had not revealed until that morning.

Every woman in the room had been instructed to wear an unusual dress in her honor, and Alicia’s face had turned scarlet with embarrassment as each carriage arrived.

Several ladies had outdone themselves with enormous feathers in their hair and sashes around their shoulders.

After the initial shock, Alicia had hit him lightly on the arm and disappeared for a short while. When she emerged again, she was wearing the pink and gray dress she had worn once in an attempt to irritate her husband.